Sunday, August 23, 2009

The Slapper

Part 2 In A Series

All my life I've come up with nicknames for people — mostly for those who I don't know their real names. For instance, the neighbor that came home with a dog that wasn't his, and didn't follow up on missing posters for the pooch, is now known as The Dognapper.

There are a number of characters at my mother's assisted care facility. Today I will tell you about The Slapper. Reader Greg of Wits' End will appreciate the English slang!

The Slapper appears to be one of Mother Dear's best friends at the place. They are usually sharing a swing in the courtyard when I arrive to visit. Until my brother told me the following story, my alternate name for The Slapper was The Toothless Wonder. She's missing most of her teeth, yet has just enough to prevent a full plate of dentures on the top or bottom.

But according to my brother, and confirmation by the staff, she's the resident tart. My brother arrived for a visit and was talking to the staff in the lobby while watching Mom and The Slapper on their swing. A man goes out into the courtyard and sits on an adjacent swing. In about a minute, The Slapper got up and went over and joined the man on his swing. And within seconds, they were attached at the mouth and going for broke. Apparently, so into it, that it looked like they were performing tonsillectomies on each other with their tongues. Their ability to hold their breath, or breathe whilst making out, was also a feat to behold as their lips were locked for a minute or more!

I mentioned the story to the nurse and she said that she has three regular men that are the object of her affection. It is hard to control because she, at least, is pretty affected by dementia and can't be taught that this behavior is best saved for behind their closed doors.

Also see:
Part 1: The Klepto
Part 3: The Baby Mama
Part 4: Socks
Part 5: The Jackrabbit
Part 6: Gidget
Part 7: Twinkle Toes
Part 8: Pittsburgh and Tex
Part 9: The Bird Flicker
Part 10: The Imp, The Lesbian Haircut, and The Bitch
Part 11: The Bugaboo

3 comments:

Greg said...

Now THERE'S a word that I didn't realise had crossed the Atlantic. I can't tell you how proud I feel at this moment.

Y | O | Y said...

Ha! My buddy in London uses it as one of his favorite sayings. As well as calling me a 'schtoopid American' in his best American accent!

citygirl said...

I love these entries that you're writing! So funny.

My mom mainly kept to herself which was good. However, I used to worry about her sometimes...I'd fear that she was being picked on, pushed/shoved or worse, being the receiver of affection or unwanted touching from more aggressive residents since she was so mild and really couldn't tell you if anything like this happened.